


Pushing Back

by CloudLeopard



Series: Brokeback Bangtan [8]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Murder-Suicide, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:44:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudLeopard/pseuds/CloudLeopard
Summary: Two years after Jimin and Jungkook got back together we check in with them to see how they're getting on





	Pushing Back

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, huge apologies to everyone who has been reading along for the immensely late delivery of this chapter. I have been so flipping blocked its been almost physically painful. I'm still not 100% happy that this chapter is everything it could be but it is what it is.  
> Chapter 9 is underway and so is the planning for 10 so I'm hopeful that there won't be anywhere near as big a wait for those.
> 
> I wanted to give a shoutout to breeelizabeth who left me the sweetest comment, reminding me that there is still a readership out there for these boys and their AU - one message made more of a difference than I would have believed possible - so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Since Jimin achieved his one year of sobriety and started tentatively dating Jungkook again they’ve fallen into a workable rhythm. Every other weekend either Jungkook makes the trip to Seoul or he makes the trip to Busan, as long as neither of them has another commitment and, for the last two years, the two have grown closer than ever. That’s not to say things have always been perfect, any long distance relationship takes work, and considering Jungkook’s family commitments and Jimin’s global travel then tensions can and have arisen. But they are so much better than they ever were at talking things out, sharing their frustrations and their hurt feelings, and it’s working When they are together in Busan, they keep things low key, friends hanging out together, socialising with people, taking Jungkook’s girls out. Occasionally, instead of staying with his dad, Jimin rents a hotel room instead, and they spend time together privately, locking themselves away from the world with no chance of interruption. In Seoul, they are a little freer to make their trips out more date like, they explore the city, finding hidden gems together, and finding entertainment in the mundane.

 

 

One Saturday night, they return to Jimin’s apartment, still giggling together after another adventure. For some reason he can’t recall Jimin had insisted that the aquarium was the perfect place for a date, and it had been fun. They hadn’t bothered to look at the real names of all the fish they came across, instead making up their own kind of fitting names depending on what features each particular fish had. Their names were creative and silly and they’d laughed their way around the entire exhibit, much to the annoyance of some people who were clearly trying to teach small children how to behave in public. One particularly strident mother had made it known in fairly loud terms what she thought of grown men acting like silly infants and Jungkook had apologised to her, knowing exactly what it’s like to try and wrangle small stubborn children in public. For a few minutes his behaviour is cowed but then Jimin sets him off again and his adultness is a lost cause.

Jimin had taken plenty of photos at the aquarium, already picturing a small series of fish drawings inspired by today and the bright colours and unusual shapes he’d seen.  
By the time they get home it’s late, near 11 pm, so they end up falling on the sofa together, TV on, chilling out before one of them cracks and drags the other off to bed.  
The news is on in the background, they’re not really paying attention, looking through their photos of the day, cracking jokes and grinning at each other, until they hear Busan mentioned and then both of them pay attention almost on reflex. What flashes across the screen is almost unbelievable and they sit in silence, listening, both open-mouthed in horror as the familiar street is broadcast. They know this neighbourhood, this is Jungkook’s parent’s neighbourhood, this is Yoongi’s parent’s road, and the likelihood that they know the people involved is high. The announcer is matter of fact, despite the shocking story, as they always are. But Jimin and Jungkook just sit staring, and, as a familiar house pops onto the screen, festooned in police tape, surrounded by police officers and their cars it’s clear that their fears are not imagined, and this is no dream. The announcer recaps,

“that was our reporter there live from the scene in Busan where a couple in their early sixties was found dead earlier today by a neighbour. The police have refused to release any details of either the couple’s identity or how they lost their lives but they have confirmed that they are not looking for anyone else in relation to their enquiry.”

Jimin reached for the remote, muting the sound as the reporter moved on to the next story, and turned to Jungkook,

“that was Yoongi’s house wasn’t it?” he asked, hands shaking.

Jungkook just nodded, looking as shocked as Jimin felt.

“Then the couple are his parents?” Jimin breathed.

Jungkook swallowed hard, “yeah, I reckon,” he agreed croakily.

“Fuck,” Jimin spat, grabbing for his phone, dialling Yoongi, uncaring of the late hour. He was slightly surprised when Yoongi answered though.

“Hey Jimin,” Yoongi said, sounding quiet and rather detached.

Jimin jumped up, pacing the floor, suddenly unable to stay still, “fuck, Yoongi, we’ve just seen the news. Is it…? Was it…?” he asked.

“The police left about half an hour ago,” Yoongi told him, instead of answering directly.

“Oh shit Yoongs, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” he said, wincing at his dumb question because of course Yoongi isn’t ok. He didn’t give a shit that Yoongi’s parents were dead, they were assholes of the highest order, and death didn’t change that, but they were still Yoongi’s parents and their sudden deaths were bound to hurt him regardless.

“Thanks Jimin,” Yoongi grunted, “I’m just…oh fuck, I don’t know,” he choked, sounding close to tears.

“Hang in there Yoong,” Jimin told him gently, formulating a plan in his mind while he was talking, “Kook and I are on our way, you going to be awake for a bit? Shall we come straight to you?” Jimin checked, his thoughts whirling, trying to work out exactly what he needed to do to get to Yoongi as soon as possible.

Yoongi gave a sad little chuckle and gulp, “don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a while,” he confided in Jimin quietly.

“Ok buddy, hang on, we’ll be there soon,” Jimin told him, hanging up after he’d said goodbye.

Jungkook had disappeared while Jimin was talking to Yoongi and Jimin went in search of him now, finding him in the bedroom. He’d already repacked his own overnight bag and was in the process of packing one for Jimin. It was exactly what he needed right now, Jimin could actually cry at the thoughtfulness, it wasn’t the time to fall apart though, they needed to get back, Yoongi was waiting.

 

 

They haven’t been able to do a road trip together like this in a very long time, and it should be fun, but obviously, it isn’t. They try some muted music, but any slightly happy tunes jar with the sombre mood in the car and, after flicking through a few stations and cd’s they quietly agree to just give up and travel in relative silence. They do chat but its more practicalities, commenting on the route and the traffic, where they were going to stay for the rest of the night, how Jungkook would explain his sudden reappearance to his girls. They talk about Yoongi, sharing stories of him that they probably already both know, but hearing from each other how Yoongi has coped with bad things before sort of comforts them both. They are trying to reassure each other and themselves that Yoongi will be ok, that he’ll get through this.

 

 

When they arrive the walk to Yoongi’s apartment from the car park feels both far too short and far too long, the atmosphere hanging over Jimin is almost overwhelming and he just wants to get Yoongi in his arms, to try and do what he can to soothe his pain away.

When Yoongi answers he is still fully dressed and looks paler than Jimin thought was possible. He leads them to the lounge, sitting with his hands clasped between his knees. Jimin sat on one side of him, and Jungkook on the other, letting him just breathe for a few minutes, waiting for him to talk, before Jimin could stand it no longer,

“Yoongs, what happened?” he asked gently.

Yoongi hitched a breath in, “he beat her to death then shot himself,” he told them, almost too matter of factly.

“Jesus,” Jimin gasped, not expecting anything like that.

“Yoongi shrugged sadly, “he never touched her before, never laid a hand on her, it was always me, guess I’ve been gone too long.”

He sounded broken, and like he was blaming himself, and Jimin couldn’t stand it,

“don’t,” he told Yoongi, “it’s not even slightly your fault, they were…” he trailed off, not wanting to complete his sentence telling Yoongi exactly what he thought of his parents. He   
was saved by Yoongi’s phone ringing, vibrating itself on the table, Yoongi winced,

“it’s been doing that a lot,” he almost mumbled.

“Want me to…?” Jimin gestured at it, seeing if Yoongi wanted him to answer it. Yoongi just nodded.

Jimin didn’t even look at the display, just answered it with a short,

“hello?”

“Son?” he heard his father’s voice ask, “are you ok?”

“Hey dad, it’s Jimin,” he told his dad, knowing that he wasn’t the son that his dad expected to answer.

His dad gasped a little bit, “are you here? There? Are you with him?”

Jimin smiled a little bit at that, “yeah, got here about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh thank goodness, I’ve been ringing but Yoongi hasn’t been answering, is he ok?” his dad asked, concern evident in his voice.

Jimin stole a little glance at Yoongi, because was he ok? Probably not really, how could he be?

“Ahh dad,” he started, before confiding quietly, “I don’t know.”

Jimin’s dad just made a little noise of understanding, “no, he wouldn’t be,” he said softly, “it’s too late now, but bring him home tomorrow ok? Both of you come home.”

Jimin smiled sadly to himself, heart constricting with love, “yeah, I will,” he told him, saying goodbye before hanging up.

“Was that dad?” Yoongi asked, voice low, guilt swirling in it again.

Jimin nodded and Yoongi winced, “I couldn’t answer him, he kept ringing.”

Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s hand, “he just wants you home, wants us both home,” he told Yoongi, and that was enough for Yoongi to finally crack. His face crumpled, he snatched his hand from Jimin’s and used it to cover his face while deep gut wrenching sobs shook his frame.

There was nothing that Jimin or Jungkook could do for him apart from holding him, letting his emotions pour out of him, letting him feel.

When Yoongi finally cried himself out the sky was already lightening, signalling dawn was approaching. All three men were bone tired, making their way to Yoongi’s bedroom, still pitch black thanks to his blackout blinds, they stretched out in his bed fully clothed, sandwiching Yoongi in the middle, surrounding him with love.

 

 

Early in the afternoon when Jimin awoke it was just him and Yoongi in the bed, he could hear Jungkook moving about somewhere else in the apartment though so he allowed himself to doze for a little bit longer before finally getting up. As soon as he was upright he felt grubby and uncomfortable for sleeping with his clothes on, unpleasant memories of waking up like this when he was drunk or high resurfacing, making his heart race just a little too fast for comfort. Once the feelings started to come, all he wanted to do was shower and change, he didn’t even go and find Jungkook first, quickly stripping himself naked while waiting for the water in the shower to get warm enough, shivering with cold and a slight edge of panic.

He got in the shower and had started to wash himself when the panic had really taken hold and he’d slumped to the floor under the warm spray, hugging himself tightly, willing himself to breathe slowly. He’d just about succeeded when Jungkook found him, alarm clear in his voice,

“Jimin? You ok?”

He raised his head, and smiled wanly at Jungkook, “nearly,” he told him softly.

Jungkook crouched by the shower, uncaring of the occasional water overflow misting his skin.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked him.

Jimin shrugged, “I woke up with clothes on,” he told Jungkook, slightly nonsensically.

“That’s a trigger?” Jungkook asked.

Jimin giggled slightly hysterically, “I guess?” he questioned, “I don’t really know, just brought some stuff back.”

“Ok,” Jungkook nodded, “good to know. Can you stand up now though? Finish washing? Probably shouldn’t use up all of Yoongi’s hot water huh?”

Jimin blew out a breath, considering Jungkook’s question and nodding back. He pushed himself gingerly up to standing and finished rinsing himself off, shutting the water off and stepping out. Jungkook was waiting for him with a large fluffy towel, and he enveloped Jimin into its soft and comforting warmth, stroking his hands over Jimin’s body through the towel, drying him and soothing him.

They’re both surprised by a deep voice from the doorway,

“can you two seriously not keep your hands off each other for one goddamn day?” Yoongi’s words are cutting but his tone is amused, and he looks better than he did when they arrived yesterday.

Jungkook’s hands dropped instantly away from Jimin, and it was only Jimin’s reflexes, grabbing for the towel that stopped him from accidentally flashing Yoongi.

“Sorry Yoongs, had a bit of a panic attack, Kook had to talk me out of your shower,” Jimin explained softly.

Yoongi’s face instantly changed from amusement to concern, “you ok?” he checked.

Jimin waved him off, “I’m fine, ignore me, I’ll just go and get dressed.” 

 

 

Jungkook headed back to the kitchen but Yoongi followed Jimin as he went searching in his bag for clean clothes.

“You really ok?” Yoongi checked.

Jimin looked at him, “I’m fine, I’m sorry, it was nothing, please don’t worry about me, you’ve got enough shit going on right now.”

“Yeah, I just, don’t feel like I’ve been around much lately,” Yoongi told Jimin, looking worried again, “just want to make sure you’re really doing ok.”

Jimin smiled at him, “Yoongs that’s the first panic attack I’ve had in fucking ages, and it wasn’t so bad, I’m good, promise.”

Yoongi relaxed a bit, “ok, good,” he told Jimin, “come here,” he said, reaching for Jimin to hug him.

“Umm, Yoongs, can I at least put underwear on first?” Jimin questioned, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Yoongi rolled his eyes in response, “yes, obviously you can, and then we better check what havoc Kook has been wreaking in my kitchen.”

 

 

Breakfast together is a fairly muted affair and considering it was already past lunchtime it’s really far too late to really be calling it breakfast anyway. After tidying up the kitchen together, and letting Jungkook and Yoongi shower, they parted, Jungkook back to his place, hugging Yoongi tightly, promising to do anything he could to help in the coming days and weeks. Yoongi and Jimin went home, to their dad.

 

 

The following days are rough on Yoongi, the police come by every day, to ask more questions, to update him on the investigation, and then finally, to let him know he can plan his parents funeral. He looks at a total loss when he explains this to Jimin and his dad, not even knowing where to start, but his dad does. The two sit and plan, and Jimin leaves them to it, picking up the support role, putting himself in charge of cooking, taking the burden off where he can.  
Yoongi isn’t interested in having a lavish affair for his parents, why would he? But their standing in the community means that he cannot get away with a small private affair, as much as he’d prefer to. 

 

 

The actual funeral feels like a total farce to Jimin, so many people milling about, sharing warm reminiscences about Yoongi’s parents, praising them, and crying over their loss. And the one person that really matters is largely ignored. People approach Yoongi of course, shaking his hand, murmuring condolences to his face. But behind his back Jimin hears what they really think, too many people speculating that Yoongi may well have been somewhat of a disappointment to his parents. He has no wife, no children and although he has a successful career, it is nowhere near what they suspect Yoongi’s parents expected of him. There are other murmurings too, people who were at his own mothers funeral, recounting how Yoongi was named as a Park and not a Min, and what shame that would have brought upon Yoongi’s parents. Some of the speculations gets even uglier, people wondering if it was Yoongi who drove them to despair and death and then Jimin can listen no more, the ball of anger in his stomach threatening to rip its way out of his body and start to tell people exactly what sort of people these idiots were mourning. He looks around for Yoongi instead, suddenly concerned that he may have heard this sort of shit too, and realising that it’s been quite a while since he last saw him. As the only child of the deceased, Jimin wasn’t the only one looking for Yoongi, people stop Jimin as he made his way through the crowds, and the fake concerned murmurs only seem to be getting louder.

Jimin passes by Jungkook, Hyejin and Jungkook’s parents at one point, having what looked like a very intense conversation, they’re quiet but Jungkook’s mother looks angry and Jungkook looks pissed off enough to burst, he doesn’t have time to ask now, Jungkook will have to wait, but Jimin makes a mental note to check in with Jungkook later on when he can to find out what that was all about. Conscious that Yoongi is going to be finding today unbearable even if he has been protected from the worst of the malicious gossip, Jimin searches relentlessly. He finally tracks him down to a small corner of the grounds, tucked away, alone and private. Yoongi is sat on the ground, curled protectively around himself, looking like he wants the whole world to just fuck off right now. Jimin approaches him cautiously,

“Yoon?” he questions, blanching when Yoongi looks up. His face is bone white, apart from two patches of vivid red on his cheeks. He’s clearly been crying, a lot, Jimin goes to sit next to him.

“Careful,” Yoongi mumbles, voice gruff, “I puked.”

Jimin eyes the ground before lowering himself on the other side of Yoongi, pulling him into a hug just in time. Yoongi’s body is overwhelmed again with wracking sobs,

“they all knew,” he moaned, his pain emanating out of him.

“Knew what?” Jimin questioned, still holding Yoongi tight, wanting to hold him together.

“That they beat me, they all fucking knew, and no one did anything.” Yoongi’s voice cracks and wobbles, despite the intervening years, despite his successes, his parent’s treatment of him had left scars, emotional and physical, and Jimin can only imagine what coming face to face with his parent's friends must be like today.

“I don’t even want to know how you found out that but they’re all cunts,” Jimin spat out bluntly, shocked, the reality of Yoongi’s confessions worse than he could have expected. He makes Yoongi jolt, and splutter.

Jimin continued, Yoongi’s eyes trained on him, his sobs halted at the force of Jimin’s words,

“seriously Yoongi, who the fuck ignores a kid getting the shit beaten out of them? They’re all cunts, fucking useless bastard cunts.”

“Don’t hold back,” Yoongi told him, amusement dancing in his still damp eyes, “tell me what you really think.”

“Yoongs, they mean nothing, go back in, hold your head up high, own what you’ve achieved despite having nothing but useless fucking adults in your life.”

Yoongi nodded, “not all useless adults,” he told Jimin, “Jungkook’s parents, and yours…” He added, scrubbing at his face to wipe off the last of his tears and taking a bit wobbly breath as Jimin squeezed his hand.

“They had money you know?” he continued, “their solicitor told me, I suspect they’d forgotten but I am their only beneficiary.”

Jimin nodded cautiously, not sure where Yoongi was going with this.

“Guess what I’m going to do with it?” Yoongi added.

Jimin shrugged, “burn it? Blow it all on booze?”

Yoongi smirked, pushing the last of his tears off his face, “better than that, I’m setting up a foundation that makes sure that kids are fed when their parents don’t feed them, for whatever reason.”

Jimin gaped for a moment, and then started chuckling,

“only you,” he laughed, “only you could get revenge on someone by plotting to help people, you’re a fucking legend you know that right?”

Yoongi is clearly amused by Jimin’s reaction, laughing too, “my dad would fucking hate it,” he confirmed.

Jimin stood up, pulling Yoongi with him, still smiling, “come on then, let’s get this fucking farce of a wake over with, tell the sycophants to fuck off home, and then spend your father’s money doing something that will have him squirming in his fucking grave for the rest of eternity.”

Jimin grabbed for Yoongi’s hand, walking back across the grass with him, knowing that Yoongi would eventually be ok.

 

 

Jimin and Jungkook manage to sigh simultaneously as they walk towards Jimin’s car with Yoongi sandwiched between them. They are the last ones to leave the funeral, Yoongi staying till the bitter end, till the last fawning idiot had finally fucked off, and he looked ready to sleep for the next hundred years or so. They were heading back to Jimin’s dad's place, all looking forward to switching off from what had been a very stressful day.

Yoongi went straight to his room after giving Jimin and Jungkook grateful hugs and a small smile, and the other two went to Jimin’s childhood bedroom. It wasn’t even that late, but Jimin can see Jungkook has something on his mind, so they make themselves comfortable on the bed and Jimin hugs Jungkook to him, letting Jungkook rest his head on his chest before he strokes his hair. They don’t say anything for a bit, and Jimin can feel Jungkook relaxing under his hands, letting the tension bleed out of him.

“You ok Kook?” he checks softly, not wanting to stress him out again, but knowing that something has riled him.

Jungkook sighed, “mum said some stuff at the funeral, nothing I couldn’t handle though, although I don’t think we’re really talking at the moment.”

Jimin swallowed, for all of their differences, Jungkook and his parents have always been close, so not talking was huge.

“Shit Kook, I saw something was going on, what the hell happened?”

Jungkook shifted, so he could look at Jimin’s face, “Yoongi told mum he had a boyfriend, and she basically insinuated that his parent’s treatment of him could have been justified by his gayness.”

Jimin gasped in shock, feeling beyond murderous on Yoongi’s behalf, “what the actual fuck?”

“I know,” Jungkook told him, his eyes sad, “so I said some stuff and she got angry and now she’s sort of not talking to me.”

“What sort of stuff Kook?” Jimin checked, “Do I want to know?”

“Yeah, not that,” Jungkook replied, clearly reading Jimin’s mind, “told her his parents were fucking monsters and that liking dick didn’t make Yoongi a bad person.”

Jimin snorted inelegantly “fucking good for you,” he told Jungkook.

His reaction didn’t cheer Jungkook up like Jimin had kind of expected, “Kook?” he questioned carefully, “what’re you thinking?”

Jungkook huffed, “nothing new, usual shit, they’re never going to accept me with a guy are they?”

Jimin didn’t have an answer for Jungkook, at least, not a comforting one. The truth is, as nice as Mrs Jeon was, and she really was, she had such a fucking blind spot where that was concerned, and Jimin knew it hurt Jungkook when things like this arose. He shrugged,

“Kook I don’t know,” he told him, “maybe, because it’s you and they love you…?”

Jungkook smiled a very small and sad smile, “maybe,” he replied.

 

 

Jimin spent the best part of three weeks back in Busan, with his dad and Yoongi, the three of them eventually conceding that, as nice as it was to see each other and be together, that they all needed their own space back. So Yoongi went back to his apartment, and back to work, planning ahead for how his foundation would identify children in need and how it would run while he was waiting for his parent's money to be released to him. After one last trip out with Jungkook and the girls, Jimin returns to Seoul too, and to his planned fish drawings.

But once he was back in Seoul, back in his apartment, he felt lonelier than ever after being with his father and Yoongi. Three solid weeks of being so close to Jungkook again has made him think. Jimin copes with it in the best way that he knows, throwing himself into drawing. He is nearly finished with the seventh and final drawing in the fish series when Jackson interrupts him late one morning.

“Hey Jimin, sorry to disturb you, I’ve just had the weirdest email request for you that I’ve ever read,” Jackson started, a strange grin spread over his face. He’s holding his iPad, an email ready to be looked at.

Jimin doesn’t usually tolerate interruptions well, and Jackson knows it, normally waiting until Jimin comes to a natural stop for food or a bathroom break, so for him to interrupt, it must be odd, so Jimin just nods, and lets go of the fleeting irritation while he’s walking towards Jackson and the iPad. He takes it out of Jackson’s hand and starts to read.

 

Dear Mr Park

I apologise for the intrusion but I would like to enquire f you still make bespoke wedding cakes.   
Several years ago now you made an exquisite cake for my nephew's wedding after the baker we had booked let us down at the 11th hour. My daughter is going to be married in a little over six months’ time and we have found no one else that she would like more to make her cake.  
We are willing to pay you well for both your time and expertise and look forward to hearing back from you.

 

Jimin barely reads the sign off sentences because what the actual fuck? He made Jungkook’s wedding cake and those couple of others must be thirteen years ago now? Actually, it’s definitely thirteen years ago before Eunae was born and she’s fast approaching thirteen herself. Jackson is looking at him with utter confusion, and Jimin laughs.

“They want me to make a wedding cake,” he told Jackson, kind of stupidly.

Jackson nodded back, “when the hell did you make fucking wedding cakes?” he asked.

“Back in the days of my youth,” Jimin told him gravely, face serious before he couldn’t help giggling.

“Seriously?” Jackson questioned, “how did I not know this?”

Jimin shrugged, “I literally made like three, one of which was Jungkook’s, and that was it, wedding cake baker career over, and I came to Seoul to start working with Seunghyun.”

Jackson's eyes bug out, “wait, back the fuck up, you made Jungkook’s wedding cake? For real?”

Jimin nodded, “yeah, it felt fucking awful, hurt so bad, but the cake looked amazing, and I got a couple of commissions from it, I’m guessing one of them is this one,” he waggled the iPad for emphasis.

Jacksons face turned soft and he gripped Jimin’s forearm gently to comfort him, “so you’ll turn this down?” he asked.

It was on the tip of Jimin’s lips to say yes, of course he’s going to turn it down because he was a fucking artist, not a baker. But the email sparked something in him, something he hadn’t expected, something that only drawing has ever sparked in him, the email has inspired him and its yet another thing that connects him to Busan and to Jungkook.  
So he makes a non-committal noise to Jackson, mumbling that he’ll reply later, and he goes back to his drawing. This will always be his first love, his career, but baking had come a close second. The feelings that had been ignited in Mrs Jeon's café once he started learning the baking ropes inspired him too. It is true that baking and decorating Jungkook’s wedding cake had been incredibly painful, but that had been inevitable given the circumstances. Baking the other two had been fun, decorating the other two had been nothing short of awesome. It had felt like creating 3D art and, although he’s not gone to quite that level in a very long time, he still bakes if he’s home alone and bored, often distributing the results amongst his neighbours and the staff in the building.

Once he’s alone again that night his mind starts to truly race, remembering the process of taking a client’s ideas and weaving them into something he was confident he could produce, and it excites him.

 

 

It takes him the best part of a week to reply to the email, but reply he does. In it he outlines his lack of experience, wanting to be totally honest, not wanting to ruin someone’s big day. He suggests a nominal fee, enough to cover his time and the ingredients in exchange for the cake and a recommendation if they’re happy of course. When he confesses what he’s agreed to to Jackson he has to laugh at Jackson’s incredulous face, and then it’s his turn to look stunned when Jackson asks him shyly,

“so does that mean I can ask you to bake my wedding cake Jimin?”

Jimin knows that Jackson has a long-term girlfriend, of course he does, but this is the first time he’s heard about a wedding, and so he blurts out, “you’ve asked her to marry you?”

Jackson flushed slightly, “not yet, but…” he looks almost shyly at Jimin, before reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulling out a box, revealing the contents to Jimin.

The ring is a simple solitaire, simple but large and clearly expensive.

“Christ, why do you have that with you now?” Jimin asks, “are you going to ask today?” his voice lifts with shock at the end of his sentence.

Jackson shakes his head, “had it with me a few weeks,” he tells Jimin quietly, “trying to find the right moment.”

Jimin just shakes his head, “go and bloody book something now, for tonight,” he tells Jackson, “fanciest place you can find, I’ll pay, do it.”

Jackson grins, “she might not be free tonight,” he points out reasonably.

Jimin just rolls his eyes, “text her first, go on, right now,” he commands, getting excited himself now.

Jackson pulls out his phone, typing quickly, and gulping when he gets the reply, nodding to Jimin, “she’s free.”

“Excellent,” says Jimin, “so where do you want to go?”

Jackson shrugs but Jimin knows him well enough by now.

“Where do you want to go?” he wheedles.

Jackson sighs, and names a small but gorgeous restaurant that has one of the best views over the city. Its exclusive as hell and the likelihood that it won’t be fully booked tonight is infinitesimal, it is a Friday after all. But Jimin has pull in this town, and he uses it so rarely and so he rings the restaurant. He is oh so charming over the phone, knowing exactly what buttons to push to have the person who answers almost begging him to book in tonight. He leaves it to the last possible moment to mention that he himself won’t actually be attending, but that everything should be put on his credit card, and he rattles off the number to her. When he gets off the phone, Jackson is blushing for real now and possibly breathing a bit harder than he should need to.

“Fuck,” he told Jimin in awe, “did you just do that? Am I actually proposing tonight?”

Jimin grins, “yes and yes,” he tells Jackson, “so go home now, go get flowers and dress up nicely and decide exactly what you want to say, and don’t come back until Monday morning at the very earliest, understand?”

Jackson protests, “Jimin, it’s literally like 11 am,” he points out, “I have hours more work to do before I can leave.”

Jimin fixes him with a look, “is there anything that won’t wait until Monday?” he questions.

Jackson stops, and thinks about it for a moment, before he shakes his head just very slightly, “no I guess not,” he tells Jimin.

“In that case, please leave now,” Jimin tells him, still grinning.

Jackson grins back, and nods, “thank you Jimin,” he tells him softly, going to gather his belongings.

Jimin has one more thing to do, as Jackson is about to walk out the door he throws something small to him, Jackson catches it neatly but with a questioning look on his face. Jimin has just thrown his car keys at Jackson, he smiles,

“your car is nice and all, but if you’re going to do this, might as well do it in style.”

Jackson just gapes, because taking Jimin’s car is a rare treat indeed, it isn’t the first time he will have driven it, but it doesn’t happen often.

“Are you sure?” he checks.

Jimin nods, “yes, now go, plan the perfect evening, see you on Monday.”

 

 

He won’t be alone for long anyway, this weekend is Jungkook’s weekend to come and visit, he belatedly realises that he might actually need his car but Jungkook will be bringing his, so they can just use that anyway.

When Jungkook comes he brings the best news Jimin has heard in ages. He doesn’t tell Jimin straight away, just hands him his phone, showing Jimin a picture of two children, a boy of about two and a baby and he just grins at Jimin for a minute. Jimin looks at him,

“cute,” he comments, “who are they?”

Jungkook has the biggest grin on his face as he leans in closer, swiping his finger across the screen to scroll to the next picture, Namjoon is stood with the little boy in his arms and next to him, Seokjin is cradling the baby, they are looking at each other with the most blissed out expressions on their faces and Jimin’s heart nearly stops.

“Wait, what?” he asks, turning to Jungkook.

“They’ve kept it a fucking secret,” Jungkook tells him, “the ones that they lost hurt too bad so they didn’t want to get their hopes up, but they brought home their son and daughter yesterday morning.”

Jimin fucking sobs, eyes drinking in the look of utter contentment on the new family’s faces on Jungkook’s phone. The two times that Namjoon and Seokjin have missed out on children had been devastating to them both, and after the second time, Namjoon had asked to put the process of finding a child on hold for a bit, to come to terms with their losses and the strain it had put on their lives and relationship. Jimin had no idea that they’d even started the process again, putting their faith in the system one more time, and it had come through for them, at long last.

“They finally get to be daddies?” he asks Jungkook, happy tears still rolling down his cheeks.

Jungkook nods, “yeah, the kids are siblings, orphaned. The final paperwork takes a bit of time apparently, but they are officially daddies as of yesterday morning.”

“Oh my fucking god, that huge, and so fucking wonderful,” Jimin moans out, pushing the tears off his face, “I can’t believe they didn’t say anything.”

“I know,” Jungkook nods, “I couldn’t be more pleased for them.”

“Me either,” Jimin tells him, “they’ve waited so long.”

He texts them both, offering his congratulations, telling them of his excitement for them all before he turns to Jungkook,

“we have to go shopping, buy them gifts, will you take them back to Busan with you for me?”

Jungkook just grins, “of course.”

Jimin wastes no time, grabbing the essentials and pulling Jungkook out of the apartment and into the most expensive shopping district. Jungkook tries to slow him down, tries to point out that no matter how expensive the clothes and toys are that they will be dribbled on, stained and bashed up, and so maybe he doesn’t need to spend so much. But Jimin won’t be held back, he fawns over tiny outfits and cuddly toys, finds both practical and luxurious treats for the new dads too, he only stops shopping when he cannot physically carry any more bags, and the massive grin hasn’t left his face all morning.

He spends the afternoon wrapping the gifts, half watching the TV as Jungkook dozes on his couch. He’s mildly stunned when he’s done, a full two hours later, at the size of the pile of presents, but he doesn’t care, Namjoon and Seokjin have waited so long for this, been through such a roller coaster, they deserve to be pampered a bit.

 

 

It’s a few weeks later when he has the first meeting with the bride to be, her fiancée and her parents to discuss what they are looking for in the wedding cake. They meet in a café, not too far from Jimin’s apartment, and he comes prepares with drawing materials and a notepad. As the bride describes what she wants, Jimin sketches, annotating it as he goes, and by the end of the meeting, the sketch he has produced makes both the bride and her mother gasp and grin. They both look a little crestfallen when he goes to pack up the drawing to take with him, but he needs it as a reference, he makes a mental note to let them have it once he’s done though, realising that this is something else unique that he can offer if he is really serious about making wedding cakes again.

The cake that he’s going to make looks deceptively simple and the cake on the inside will be, standard sponges in flavours that Jimin is very comfortable in producing. The decoration will be stark white icing overlaid with a purple lace design, going from pale purple at the top to a darker and more vivid purple at the base. The pictures that the bride has shown him look stunning and effortless, but Jimin has never created a lace pattern, and this one will need to be hand iced, it’s a daunting prospect. So Jimin goes into overdrive in the lead up to the wedding, baking cakes solely for practice, his first somewhat wobbly attempts getting better and better as the weeks go on. His efforts don’t go unnoticed in his apartment block either, probably because he’s taken to randomly calling by his neighbours with much more elaborately decorated cakes than usual, knocking on doors until someone answers and presenting them with his offerings before scurrying off again. When they bring his plates back they are effusive in their praises, both at his decorations and the cakes inside which spurs him on all the more.

 

 

There aren’t many children in the block, not that he’s seen anyway, but his fourth practise cake clearly gains him a young fan. He’s drawing one afternoon when there is a timid knock at his door and, when he opens it, he finds an unknown child shyly offering him his plate back. Jimin smiles brightly, taking the plate and thanking the little boy, his friendliness obviously unlocks something in the youngster because, as Jimin is about to ask him something the child blurts out,

“will you make my birthday cake please?”

“I…, sorry?” Jimin checks, a little grin on his face.

“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” the boy mumbles, “and my mum isn’t very good at baking.”

Jimin has to stifle a giggle, “you probably shouldn’t say that about your mum,” he admonishes gently.

The boy isn’t put off, “but it’s true though, she tells me all the time.”

Jimin does giggle then, “ok fair enough,” he agrees, “so if you could choose, what would your cake look like?”

The boy thinks seriously for a minute, before deciding, “chocolate.”

“Just chocolate?” Jimin checks.

The boy nods enthusiastically, “yes, it’s my favourite.”

“Ahh I see,” Jimin agrees seriously, “it’s a good choice, chocolate is yummy isn’t it?”

The boy grins back happily, “the best.”

Jimin chats to him for a few more minutes, teasing more details from him. He is having a small party at home tomorrow after school with his friends, his mum is planning to buy a cake but after tasting Jimin’s, he would much prefer it if Jimin made it instead. Entranced by the lad’s open cheekiness and general adorable nature, Jimin decides why not? He’ll need to make a quick run down to the store for some supplies, but he has time, so he agrees, and the boy heads away with the most wonderful grin on his face.  
It doesn’t take Jimin long that evening to bake and then decorate the chocolate cake, he decides to go simple for the decoration, piling as many different sorts and shapes of chocolate on the top, sending himself back to his own childhood for a minute to work out what would be the most appealing. He’s just putting the finishing touches to it when there is another knock at his door.

The woman takes one look at Jimin’s chocolate dusted apron and cringes,

“oh my gosh, Minjun wasn’t joking, I’m so sorry,” she gasps out.

This has to be the boy from earlier’s mother, and Jimin invites her in.

She spots the cake in Jimin’s kitchen with wide eyes,

“I cannot apologise enough for Minjun’s cheek,” she pleads, “he didn’t tell me he’d demanded a birthday cake from you until I was putting him to bed.”

Jimin smiles easily back at her, taking off his apron and placing it in a messy heap on his countertop, “he didn’t demand, he asked very politely,” he told her.

She groans out very softly, “that’s something I guess, did you really make that for him?” she checks.

Jimin nods, “just tell me it really is his birthday tomorrow,” he asks her.

She laughs at that, “oh yes, that is true, he’s having a few friends home from school.”

“And you were going to buy him a cake tomorrow?” Jimin finishes for her.

She nods, “yes, baking isn’t my speciality,” she tells Jimin shyly.

Jimin cleared his throat, “ahh yes, that may have been mentioned too,” he informs her.

Her eyes widen, “that little ratbag.”

Jimin giggled, “nah, he’s cute, it’s fine, I hope he enjoys his party and his cake.”

“Are you sure?” she checked again, “I’ll pay you.”

Jimin shook his head firmly, “no, no need, just the thought of his happy face is enough.”

Minjun’s mum smiles back gently at Jimin, “thank you, seriously, it looks amazing. Are you busy tomorrow, say about 4 pm?”

“Are you inviting me to Minjun’s party?” Jimin checks, eyes dancing with amusement.

She snorts a bit at that, “sort of,” she giggles, “I thought, if you’re not busy you could bring the cake? See his face?” she trails off, looking a bit embarrassed at the suggestion but Jimin is enthusiastic,

“I’m free, that sounds good,” he agrees.

“You’re good with kids,” she tells him, out of nowhere, “you don’t have any yourself?” she looks around the apartment for any tell-tale signs of young occupants, but there is, of course, none.

Jimin shakes his head, trying not to let his face betray him, “no,” he tells her softly, “no children.”

“Ahh,” she replies sagely, before asking, “married?”

Jimin chokes a bit, being in the public eye for so long and having outed himself right at the beginning it’s been a long time since anyone has assumed he’s straight. He shakes his head,

“I have a long-term partner, but he doesn’t live with me,” he explains simply.

“Oh,” she starts, before recognition dances in her eyes, “oh my god, you’re that Park Jimin.” Her eyes widen further than Jimin would have thought was possible and they dart around his apartment again, taking in the pictures that he’s hung with a new realisation. “oh my goodness, now I’m even more embarrassed, I just hadn’t put two and two together, there I am babbling about a wife…” she tails off mortified.

Jimin smiles kindly, “please don’t worry,” he tells her, “sometimes it’s nice to be a bit incognito.”

She nods, “yes, it must be,” she says thoughtfully.

They chatted for a few moments longer, before Minjun’s mum excused herself, reiterating her invitation for tomorrow afternoon, and Jimin let her out in a reflective mood.

Truth be told, the idea of fatherhood was weighing more heavily on his mind these days, being around Jungkook’s girls, Namjoon and Seokjin adopting their two, Taehyung’s wife being pregnant, Jackson planning his wedding leading to the inevitable conversations about children, it suddenly felt like everyone was growing up, moving on, and Jimin was having conflicting feelings about it. He'd always assumed that being gay, fatherhood just wouldn’t be on the cards, and he had thought he was ok with that, he still thinks he’s ok with that, mostly.

 

 

Minjun’s party the following afternoon was nothing short of adorable. Jimin showed up, as requested at 4 pm, wielding the cake aloft, and the look on Minjun’s face was priceless. Jimin had been persuaded to stay, to watch the candles being blown out and Minjun’s valiant efforts to cut the cake before he was assisted by his mum. He was even given a slice of the cake, on a wobbly paper plate, to eat while he stood and watched Minjun and his friends happily tucking in. there had only been one awkward moment when Minjun’s dad had tried to insist that Jimin accepted a beer, or something stronger. Jimin had declined politely at first, but Minjun’s dad had been too insistent, refusing to accept his gentle refusals, and Jimin had had to insist more strongly than he was comfortable with that he really didn’t want any alcohol thank you very much. Minjun’s dad had given him a bit of a weird look before asking him quietly,

“gay people don’t drink?”

It was just as well Jimin hadn’t been eating at the time, or he probably would have choked, he looked back at him incredulously,

“gay people drink, ex-alcoholics not so much,” he’d explained tightly, leaving Minjun’s dad floundering for any sort of acceptable response. It had unfortunately coloured the experience for Jimin, and he’d made his excuses not long afterwards.

 

 

Baking and decorating the wedding cake had fallen on one of the weekends that Jungkook was due to come to Seoul, and Jimin had tried to put him off, explaining that he’d likely be tied to the kitchen for a good portion of the time. But of course, Jungkook had come anyway, pointing out that he’d been baking much longer than Jimin had and, along with the wedding cake, they’d gone on a bit of a baking marathon, slipping back years and reliving their first couple of summers together in the café. It had been an immense amount of fun and, come Monday when the cake was due, it was ready and perfect.

It turned out that, in the wedding cake business, word travelled fast. Just a week after he’d delivered his first in thirteen years he gets another email from the new bride, asking if she can pass Jimin’s details on to a few close friends, and unthinkingly he agrees.

The first week, Jackson finds it all very amusing, relaying the cake requests to Jimin with his usual grin, and then the second week there is a sudden flood of emails and Jackson is suddenly less amused. He is used to handling Jimin’s emails, but as the years have gone by, the influx of random emails has halted to barely a trickle, thanks to his skills in weeding out and quickly rejecting anything he knows Jimin won’t be interested in. the cake thing is a whole other story, and Jackson is going slowly insane, on the Thursday of the second week he finally cracks, cornering Jimin when he innocently steps out of his studio for a drink.

“Jimin, what the fuck?” he hisses.

Jimin looks back at him blankly, “what the fuck what?” he asks Jackson.

“This wedding cake thing, it’s completely out of control, you have seven more requests this morning alone, I can’t reply to any of them, it's driving me mad, seriously, what is your plan for this?”

Jimin grins, “ahh, I sort of don’t really have a plan,” he confesses, “didn’t expect this kind of interest.”

Jackson sighs, “you literally have requests now for weddings that are six months away right up to two years away, you need an actual plan.”

Jimin’s eyes bug out slightly, “two years away? Who plans two years away?”

“Engaged couples do Jimin, organised people,” Jackson huffs, the strain evident on his face.

Jimin takes pity on him, “ok, calm down,” he placates, “let me have a think about it and I’ll decide what I actually want to do, ok?”

Jackson nods, mollified, for now, allowing Jimin to get back to his studio and the drawing that was waiting for him.

 

This drawing is mostly finished, Jimin is just shading today, so he has time for his mind to wander, trying to work out exactly what he wants to do when it comes to the cake making. There is no denying it, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it thirteen years ago, and he still enjoys it, and he doesn’t want to stop. This wasn’t really in his plan, wasn’t even slightly in his plan, but it could be fun. As his pencils scratch lightly over the canvas, the hushed sound lulling him as it always had, he comes to a decision and, before Jackson leaves for the day, decides to go and find him and actually make a firm plan.

He finds Jackson in the office, staring furiously at the computer screen, Jackson is rarely anything other than completely chilled out, and Jimin feels guilty that his own lack of thought has caused Jackson so much stress. Backing back out again silently he heads for the kitchen, making them both drinks before returning to the office with his peace offering.

He sits opposite Jackson, proffering the cup with an almost sheepish expression.

“Sorry Jackson,” he tells him softly, “I’ve been a dick huh?”

Jackson huffs out a giggle, “I wouldn’t go that far,” he tells Jimin, “but you seriously do need a plan.”

Jimin nods, “yeah, I know. I’m going to do it, but no more than two a month, I figure that’ll be plenty with the meetings and tasting sessions and the like.”

Jackson's eyes widen slightly, “you’re actually going to do this?” he checks.

Jimin nods, “yeah,” he replies, his face softening as he thinks about it, thinks about being in the kitchen, baking, decorating, and then finally handing the cakes over to the happy couples, he’s convinced, “yeah, I really am.”

Jackson gulps slightly, “you know if you’re doing this for a business you’re going to have to be professional about it right? You’ll need like certificates or something, pricing structure, a website, some sort of availability calendar, all sorts of complicated shit that I have no idea about.”

Jimin takes a rather large gulp of his own drink because if he’s honest, he really hasn’t thought this through.

“Oh,” he tells Jackson, already feeling way more downcast that he did ten minutes ago, “is it a dumb idea?” he knows Jackson will be honest with him.

But Jackson just huffs, “no, I guess not, if you really want to do this?” 

Jimin nods eagerly.

“Then I’ll have to look into exactly what you need to do then, won't I? Create stuff out of thin air, organise you even more,” his tone is complaining but his eyes are dancing with amusement.

“Yes please,” Jimin asks him.

Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “in that case I’m setting up a new dedicated email for your cake stuff and get interested people to re-email their requests there, I can’t have it mixing with the art stuff, it’s driving me batshit. I’ll find out what you need legally and we’ll go from there,” Jackson concludes.

Jimin nods happily, “sounds good, thank you, Jackson,” he tells him, standing up to leave Jackson to it.

“You’re making mine for free in return though right?” Jackson asks cheekily.

Jimin grins back, “of course, add yourself to my schedule as soon as you guys set a date.”

 

 

It takes Jackson the best part of a month to wade through all of the information he needs to to help Jimin set up as an official celebration cake baker. There are inspections, hygiene certificates and other official paperwork along with creating a system for organising all of the paperwork, emails and phone calls that will inevitably come, and then Jimin officially launches his new venture. It’s just him and Jackson, at home, both exhausted from all of the preparation, so the celebration is little more than a glass of sparkling grape juice and a grateful smile, tomorrow Jimin’s new calendar will start being filled with cake deadlines and meetings.

For the first six or eight months, bookings are manageable, and Jimin accommodates everyone that books in, and then the weddings actually start happening, and people who have actually seen his cakes in real life start to contact him, and suddenly he has more requests than he can possibly handle, and he and Jackson have to start turning people away. It’s not something that he gets any pleasure out of, but even doing two a month takes up a considerable amount of time, and he just cannot do any more.

 

 

One appointment that had become sacrosanct in Jimin’s calendar is his annual trip back to the clinic and Dr Kwon. He has become somewhat of a poster child for them, returning every year, as close to his anniversary as possible, to speak with current clients, as a motivational speaker. He had thought his last session with Dr Kwon would be the last time he would set foot inside the clinic, but Dr Kwon had proposed that he return to share his story and to help, and Jimin had jumped at the chance. The first year felt kind of awkward, he may be a public figure, but speeches on his addiction issues were uncomfortable. Now it doesn’t bother him at all, he remembers all too well how it feels to be the one listening rather than speaking. When he goes, he speaks from the heart, never the same speech twice, recounting his own sometimes harrowing journey, trying to give hope to those currently struggling.

He always visits the wall, the one where his drawing hangs, and the list of people achieving their sober milestones, the list grows longer each time, and Jimin likes seeing his own name up there too, running his index finger over the lettering of his name, almost reassuring himself.   
Before he is escorted through to speak this year, he visits with Dr Kwon in his office, catching up with him and chatting, feeling more like old friends now than doctor and patient. He sees Dr Kwon outside of the centre now and then anyway, when he is with Choi Seunghyun at different events when he is just Jiyong and not Dr Kwon.

Dr Kwon’s introduction of him to the current clients is always amusing,

“good morning everyone, thank you for assembling here for what I’m sure will be an enlightening speech from our guest today, Mr Park Jimin. I’m sure some of you will know that Mr Park is an artist, whose works are celebrated around the world, we are very lucky to have him here with us today.”

Dr Kwon pauses, and Jimin observes the faces in the audience, people look bored, some are shuffling, and there are even a few eye rolls. It is the same every year, and Jimin holds in his little smirk, he knows what Dr Kwon is doing, and he knows what’s coming next.

“Some of you will recognise Mr Park’s name from our wall of achievement. When he left us 4 years ago, Mr Park was the one to instigate this project, along with donating the drawing that hangs above it. Mr Park was resident with us for three months while he underwent his initial detox from alcohol and painkillers, and he continued as an outpatient for a further nine months.”

Dr Kwon pauses again, the shuffling and noises of boredom have mostly stopped, as people realise that Jimin isn’t just some motivational speaker, he was there, he knew, he is one of them.

“Please welcome one of our success stories, Mr Park Jimin.”

 

Jimin smiles as he walks to the front, shaking hands with Dr Kwon as he takes his turn to speak. He is honest with them all, starting from his admission, addicted, skinny and broken, to his release, and beyond. He tells them that the feelings, the cravings never fully go away, but they are muted, drowned in other, much more positive things. People listen to him during these speeches, and he hopes that he can help some of them, even if it’s in a small way, to know that there is light at the end of the tunnel, that they can follow in his footsteps and have their own names on the achievement wall in time.

Afterwards, when he’s allowed to mingle, he’s approached by a man. Well, Jimin says man, he’s more of a boy really, he looks far too young to have even gotten into trouble. He’s tall and skinny, for some reason he reminds Jimin of a young Jungkook, he looks nervous and Jimin smiles at him kindly,

“hey,” he starts, holding his hand out for the other to shake, “how are you going?”

The boy shrugs, he’s shaking slightly, and hardly able to meet Jimin’s eyes, and Jimin gets it.

“Early days for you?” he asks the boy softly.

Dark eyes finally dart to his, and the boy nods, “day ten,” he confirms.

Jimin’s heart freezes just a bit because day ten for him was one of his worst detoxing memories. The boy obviously sees something in Jimin’s face because he chuckles darkly,

“yeah, you have really been there huh?”

Jimin nods, “had to go to my mum’s funeral on my own day ten,” he confides.

The boy looks stunned, “oh shit, sorry man, that must have been fucking awful.”

Jimin grimaces, “it was, I just wish she could have seen me properly sober and happy,” he says softly.

“Were you sore?” the boy asks, tucking one arm protectively around his incredibly slender waist.

Jimin nods again, “still puking,” he recalled.

The guy pales, “sucks doesn’t it? When does it stop?”

Jimin shrugs, “I think it different for everyone, depending on what you were on, and how much.”

The guy cringes, swallowing hard, “yeah I guess, look I have to go, going to….” He tails off.

Jimin watches him walking quickly to the toilets, having flashbacks of his own day ten and pushing through the funeral crowds to have to drop to his knees and strain his already abused stomach muscles trying to vomit practically nothing.

But he remembers Jungkook there, in the bathroom, stroking his back, hugging him so tenderly, and he has a sudden rush of love for him, seeing this young lad, knowing what Jungkook must have seen, and yet his support had never wavered. He grabs quickly at his phone, firing Jungkook a text, just telling him that he loved him, needing Jungkook to know.

 

 

When Jungkook comes a few days later, he is somewhat confused by Jimin’s extra cuddly demeanour, not that he really minds, but he needs to check anyway.  
“You ok Min?” he asks, when he finds Jimin practically pacing in the corridor, waiting for Jungkook to come out of the bathroom mere minutes after he’s arrived.  
Jimin grabs his hand, holding it, nodding.

“What is it?” Jungkook tries again, leading Jimin to the sofa, allowing Jimin to sit on his lap, curling into Jungkook’s chest.

Jimin shrugs, and sighs, “don’t really know,” he mumbles, feeling kind of stupid to be feeling so needy all of a sudden.

Jungkook runs his fingers through Jimin’s hair, grazing his nails ever so lightly on Jimin’s scalp.

“Talk to me Min,” he encourages.

Jimin sighs again, relaxing in Jungkook’s arms, “went back to the clinic this week,” he starts.

Jungkook just nods, waiting for him to continue.

“Met a guy, a kid really, reminded me of me I guess, it felt…weird.”

“You want to help him?” Jungkook guessed.

Jimin sat up straight, did he? Was that what was wrong?

“I…,” he starts, confusion crossing his face, “sort of? Maybe?” he guesses, trying to sort his own feelings, “I mean, I don’t have any idea how, but yeah, I think I do.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, taking his hand out of Jimin’s hair and pulling him closer, hugging him tightly, “don’t you think you’ve got enough on your plate right now?”

Jimin smiles back, “probably,” he agrees, “plus, what the fuck do I know anyway?”

“You know what it’s like, write to him maybe? If you feel that strongly that you want to do something. But don’t expect anything from him, he’s got his own battles to fight.”

Jimin turned to Jungkook, pecking him lightly on the nose, “how did you get so wise?” he asked, the tension and stress of the last few days melting away from just a few minutes with Jungkook.

Jungkook grinned, “I’ve always been wise,” he quipped.

Jimin kissed him, in little pecks across his face, down to the corner of his mouth, and then fully on his lips, it’s been two weeks since he had his mouth on Jungkook’s and he can’t help but sigh at the feeling of Jungkook’s soft lips.

He feels Jungkook grin against him, and then press back in, kissing slightly harder, waiting for Jimin to part his lips. He’s sat sideways on Jungkook’s lap, not a particularly comfortable angle, but the familiarity is oh so achingly wonderful that he doesn’t really care.

They kiss slowly, unhurried until Jimin’s soft pants and moans turns to grumbles of discomfort as his jeans tighten too far. He can feel Jungkook hardening too, poking insistently into his hip. Jimin breaks the kiss, standing up out of Jungkook’s lap, surprising him and making him growl with displeasure. Jimin smirks back as he adjusts his jeans,  
“I’ll be back,” he promises, heading for the bathroom, it’s closer than the bedroom anyway. When he gets back, bottle in hand, he stands before Jungkook, still grinning, and slowly slides off his jeans, kicking them off his feet, giving Jungkook an eyeful of his now straining cock in his underwear.

He drops the bottle into the pile of his jeans and kneels down in front of Jungkook, unfastening his jeans, tapping his hip to encourage Jungkook to lift his ass off the sofa slightly, enabling Jimin to grab the waistbands of both Jungkook’s jeans and underwear, leaving him ass naked on the couch. He pushes Jungkook’s knees apart, spreading his legs more than wide enough to fit Jimin between them, then leant down and sucked Jungkook’s cock into his mouth. He doesn’t tease, enthusiastically sucking, licking up the shaft and poking his tongue insistently into Jungkook’s slit. Jungkook starts leaking almost instantly, and Jimin’s cock follows in sympathy, dampening the front of his underwear. He takes Jungkook in deep, nose teasing in his pubic hair, swallowing reflexively around the head, pulling Jungkook towards his end. He knows Jungkook is getting close when fingers slide back into his hair and start to grip tighter, it hurts a little bit, but knowing that it’s his boyfriends desire that’s causing the roughness soothes the pain, more than soothes it, spurs Jimin on to suck harder, to lubricate Jungkook’s dick with his tongue. He hears Jungkook breath start to hitch, hears his gasps become more desperate and feels him try to pull Jimin off by his hair. But Jimin doesn’t stop, and Jungkook can hold back no longer, cock pulsing, jumping and spurting in Jimin’s mouth. He would have swallowed it all down if he hadn’t grinned as Jungkook was coming, breaking the seal his lips had formed around Jungkook’s cock, letting some of the come dribble out and down his chin. As he pulled back, releasing Jungkook’s softening cock from his mouth he swipes at his chin with the back of his hand, collecting the come, licking it off.

“Fuck, Min,” Jungkook gasped, his pupils were blown wide, and his own hair somehow in disarray.

“Yes please,” Jimin replied impishly, standing up and dropping his own underwear before sitting himself back in Jungkook’s lap.

Jungkook looked ruefully at his own crotch, his dick currently lying relaxed and unresponsive between his thighs.

“You’re going to have to wait now,” Jungkook points out, “I’m not eighteen anymore.”

Jimin whined, pressing himself up against Jungkook and rutting into his chest, “can’t wait, don’t want to,” he complained, too close, too impatient.

“Pass me the lube then Min,” Jungkook told him, slipping an arm around Jimin’s waist, holding him close, covering Jimin’s ass with his hand and squeezing.  
Jimin nodded, unconsciously biting his lower lip between his teeth, grabbing the bottle before opening it and pooling a generous amount into Jungkook’s palm, earning him a grin.

“Want it wet?” Jungkook asked him, voice low.

Jimin nodded, “close anyway,” he breathed, head falling back as Jungkook’s hand pushed between them, and his long fingers wrapped securely around his dick, choking out a muffled, “oh fuck,” as Jungkook began to move.

He moved slowly, and not quite tightly enough, teasing Jimin, getting him completely covered and wonderfully slippery. Jimin couldn’t sit still, bucking up, fucking into Jungkook’s hand, begging him wordlessly for more.

“Easy Min, slow down,” Jungkook soothed him, his free hand gripping Jimin’s hip hard, trying to still his motions.

“Can’t,” Jimin choked out desperately, “please Kook, fuck,” he begged.

“Need to come that bad?” Jungkook asked him softly, with a teasing tone in his voice.

“Yes,” Jimin told him, his tone high and needy, “please.”

Jungkook tightened his grip on Jimin, almost too tightly, almost, but not quite. The extra lube meant Jimin’s dick still slid freely but the tighter grip, the stimulation of Jungkook’s fingers gripping him was just perfect and, after a few more desperate thrusts of his hips, Jimin came, spilling himself over Jungkook’s hand, and marking them both with pearly white streaks.

When Jimin’s soul returned to his body he looked at Jungkook, still with his hand curled protectively and softly around Jimin’s dick and he grinned at him, breathing out,

“that’s better,”

Jungkook chuckled back, “yep,” he agreed, “although we probably need to clean up now.”

Jimin just snorted, taking in the state of them, “probably,” he agreed, climbing carefully off Jungkook’s lap and leading the way to the bathroom.

 

 

Its four weeks before they can see each other again, Jimin had a couple of appointments overseas with Jackson for two different upcoming exhibitions, and then several cake appointments to work his way through. He’s barely had time to draw, he can’t really afford to take this weekend off, he should be working, but they miss each other, and Jimin misses the girls, so he gives himself the time off anyway, driving down to Busan late on Friday night, staying with his dad, organising with Jungkook to take him and the girls out tomorrow for the day.

Jimin and Jungkook have never been to a theme park together, and it’s been years since Jimin has had the chance, with the girls now being old enough to be interested it seems like the perfect idea for a day out to Jimin. 

He decides to keep it a surprise though, arriving at Jungkook’s house early to pick him and the girls up. Eunae answers the door, she’s ready but still looks half asleep,

“this better be worth getting up so early,” she grumbles to Jimin, but her eyes are dancing, and he knows she’s not really annoyed.

He gives her a brief hug as he enters the house to wait for the others, “it will be, I promise,” he tells her.

She grins back before replying cheekily, “it better be.”

Eunkyung is next into the lounge, looking far more awake than her sister, “hey Jimin,” she greets softly, moving towards him for her hug, squeezing him tightly, “where are we going?”

Jimin squeezes her back, “it a surprise,” he tells her, smiling wider when she pouts, “no fair, tell us,” she begs.

He just shakes his head, “you’ll see soon enough,” he tells them, “go get whatever you need huh?”

Hyejin pops her head out from the kitchen, yawning as she’s retying the belt on her robe, “morning,” she tells him sleepily, “did you really need to turn up quite so early on a   
Saturday? Do you have any idea how hard it is to prise Eunae out of her bed at this time of the day?”

“Sorry” Jimin smiles back, “but at least you get the day to yourself huh? We won’t be back until pretty late.”

Hyejin smiles, “whole day to myself,” she hums happily, “ok, I forgive you, do I get to know where you are taking them though?”

Jimin looks around, but both girls’ eyes are trained on him, waiting for any slip-up, so he shakes his head ruefully, “sorry,” he tells Hyejin.

She just shrugs, “I’ll find out soon enough right?” she asks him cheekily, “got time for a drink?” she checks.

Jimin shakes his head, “thanks but not really, we should get going if Kook can get himself out of the door, where is he anyway?”

Eunae rolls her eyes, “in the bathroom still, probably trying to make his hair perfect.”

She looks over at Eunkyung and they both giggle, some private joke between them.

“Brats,” Jimin growls at them, “your dad’s hair always looks nice.

Eunae stops giggling, and suddenly eyes Jimin with a shrewdness that makes him want to shiver for a second before he mentally shakes his head, and tells himself to stop being paranoid.

Thankfully Jungkook chooses that moment to finally make his appearance, hair looking fantastic, and in a flurry of activity, they all finish getting ready and head out, shouting their goodbyes to Hyejin and bundling into Jimin’s car.

The girls love Jimin’s car, unlike Jungkook’s, this one has big comfortable seats with plenty of legroom, space for all of the things that they insist on bringing with them and, best of all, entertainment systems built into the back of the front seats, systems that the girls immediately plug themselves into, giving Jimin and Jungkook time and peace to chat on their way.

They’re literally pulling into the carpark when Eunkyung finally looks up and screams with excitement when she realises where they are, Jimin nearly causes a car accident, jabbing his foot down on the brake in shock at the sound of her scream after the silence of the journey.

“Holy…heck Eunkyung,” he spits out, barely managing not to swear, “you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she apologises, “but seriously, this is where we’re going?”

“Yes,” he confirms, heart still racing a little faster than he was comfortable within a damn carpark.

“Oh my god, thank you,” Eunkyung breathes.

Jimin grins, watching her in the rearview mirror as she pokes Eunae, who looks back at her annoyed before Eunkyung points out where they are, and then Eunae screams too. Thankfully this time Jimin is ready for it.

“Jesus your girls are so dramatic,” he grumbles quietly to Jungkook.

Jungkook just laughs, “tell me something I don’t know.”

They queue up to pay, Jimin bitching only slightly to himself when he realises that, yet again, they won’t get to take advantage of the price reduction of a family ticket, because they are two men with two children and not a man and a woman with two children, stupid fucking places and their stupid fucking rules. He pays anyway, upgrading them all so they don’t have to spend the majority of the day queueing for the rides and then they’re in.

The girls want to go everywhere all at once, but Jimin persuades them to have at least some sort of system. They start off with the smaller rides, and Jimin and the girls are having so much fun that he kind of misses the little looks of discomfort from Jungkook. It isn’t until they are queueing for the first big rollercoaster that Jungkook starts to look really pale.

“Umm Jimin,” he mumbles, “I don’t think Eunkyung is tall enough for this one,” Jungkook tries.

Jimin looks at him, confused, “Kook we literally checked her height before getting in the queue, she’s more than tall enough,” he pointed out reasonably.

Jungkook huffed out, “maybe I’m not tall enough,” he mumbled really quietly.

Jimin looked at him, and finally got it, “Kook are you scared?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” Jungkook lied, “I just…I’m not sure it’s safe enough, you know, for the girls.”

Jimin smiled, “its fine, you’ll be fine,” he encouraged, “we’re nearly at the front anyway,” he pointed out.

Jungkook gulped and briefly closed his eyes, “fine,” he bit out.

They waited the short time for their turn in silence, Jimin knew Jungkook was nervous but it isn’t until they actually get buckled in that he realises just how terrified Jungkook actually is. His eyes go huge, bigger than Jimin has ever seen them, and he reaches for Jimin’s hand, squeezing it painfully tightly.

“I’m going to die,” Jungkook whispers pitifully.

“No you’re not,” Jimin reassures him, “why didn’t you just say you didn’t want to go on this one before we started queueing?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook moans softly, whimpering in terror as the ride begins to slowly move, “and now I’m going to die.

The ride is over in a little over two minutes, and in that time, Jimin is quite convinced that Jungkook has managed to re-break the bones in his long healed hand. He has to practically carry a shaking Jungkook off the ride and lead him to a nearby bench. Both girls are in hysterics at the sight of their big strong dad being taken apart by a roller coaster, but it’s not helping, so Jimin thrusts some money at them and sends them off to buy drinks.

While they are gone he soothes Jungkook, when he finally manages to get Jungkook to bring his head back up from between his knees he hugs him, stroking his back, whispering comforting words to him. He doesn’t think about how intimate they must look until he spies Eunkyung and Eunae over Jungkook’s shoulder, stood a few feet away, watching them. Eunkyung looks confused, Eunae looks far too knowing, and Jimin ducks his eyes away from them, whispering to Jungkook that they’re being watched, letting him go.  
No one says anything, they carry on with their day, ribbing Jungkook gently about being scared, letting him sit out the bigger rides, nothing changes. Nothing changes except the way that Eunae is now observing them. Jimin knows it, Jungkook knows it. Eunae watches them like she’s waiting for something else to happen, she doesn’t look worried, or upset, she just looks curious. Jimin tries not to think about what the consequences might be when Eunae puts everything together. She is nearly thirteen, Jimin remembers being thirteen, he remembers all of the goddamn feelings that coursed through him, he remembers being very aware of what people who were attracted to each other looked like, and he knows that Eunae potentially understands that he and Jungkook aren’t just friends. Eunae is the last person that Jimin considered might out them but the reality that she might is terrifying.

 

 

Jimin shares his concerns with Jungkook that night after the girls have gone to bed. At first, Jungkook is in denial, Eunae is still young after all, his attitude makes Jimin roll his eyes,

“seriously Kook? Do you not remember being thirteen?”

Jungkook shrugged but suddenly started looking thoughtful.

Jimin smirked, “yeah, there it is,” he taunted before adding quietly, “surprised I didn’t manage to completely fucking erase my dick with the amount I rubbed at it.”

Jungkook snorted, “well yeah same, but relationships?” he questioned, “surely she’s too young to be seeing that at school?”

Jimin shrugged, “people were kind of pairing off by thirteen at my school, y’know, not shagging I don’t think, but definitely kissing, lots and lots of kissing.”

Jungkook nodded, “yeah I guess,” he agreed, “no one did anything else until we were like fourteen though.”

Jimin looked at him questioningly, because it seemed like Jungkook was speaking from experience, “you were doing other things at fourteen Kook?” he asked, eyes dancing with mirth, “thought you were a virgin when you met me?”

Jungkook gaped, “yeah, not me,” he confirmed, blinking hard and slightly shaking his head as if to try and erase a memory, “accidentally saw something though.”

“Like what?” Jimin asked.

Jungkook grimaced, “let’s just say I saw more of Namjoon than I expected to.”

Jimin’s eyes were huge, “wait a fucking second,” he started, “why haven’t I heard this story before? What did you see? Where the hell were you that you saw Namjoon’s dick?” he pushed.

Jungkook shook his head again, “urgh, don’t make me think about it, I have successfully repressed that memory for years,” he told Jimin, “back to us, and Eunae.”

Jimin huffed in frustration, but conceded, “yeah, ok, what are we going to do?” he asked.

Jungkook shrugged, “nothing I don’t think, just be a bit more careful?”

Jimin nodded, “yeah, ok, but if she asks questions?”

“Then we cross that bridge when we get to it,” Jungkook told him, “besides, what is the likelihood she’ll ask? Did you ever ask your parents about their sex lives?” Jungkook pointed out reasonably.

Jimin’s entire body shuddered, “oh fucking hell Jungkook, no,” he moaned out, “why the hell would you say something like that?”

Jungkook grinned, “exactly,” he said, happy that he’d proved his point.

 

 

Yoongi’s foundation is launched almost a year to the day after his parents died. It is a quiet affair, only those who Yoongi has spoken to about it really know. He calls it ‘For Children’ and any spare time he has when he is not working he reaches out to everyone that he can think of to identify children who aren’t being fed. At first, Jimin notices, he looks for the kids like him, the abused and neglected children, and he finds less than he was expecting, but every child is one too many. He doesn’t target them through their parents, not trusting them to be any better than his own parents at putting up a respectable front. Through daycare, through schools and through other agencies, he makes sure that every child that he finds is fed adequately every day. It takes a while for places to trust him, but once word spreads that there is money available for these vulnerable kids people start to tentatively approach him and the foundation grows. Week on week, month on month, more and more children eat, and then the letters start to come.  
The first time Jimin visits Yoongi after the first letter he is alarmed by the way Yoongi is hunched over the small drawing with tears in his eyes. But then Yoongi shows Jimin properly, and the minute the picture makes sense, Jimin’s eyes fill too. The child that drew it is probably four or five and a very average drawer at best. But they have drawn a little figure sat at a table, food on the table and the little figure is grinning. Up on the right hand side in very wobbly handwriting, the child has written ‘me’ with an arrow pointing to the figure. It’s simple but incredibly powerful and for Yoongi, incredibly meaningful. The next time Jimin is in the office in Yoongi’s apartment that is the nerve centre for his foundation he sees that Yoongi has framed the drawing, and placed it on the wall opposite his computer. A reminder, if he ever needs one, why he is working so hard.

 

 

Jimin is flat out fuck-my-life busy just a couple of weeks after his last trip to Busan when Yoongi’s number flashes up on his phone. It’s the middle of the day, Yoongi should be at work, and he knows Jimin will likely be working, it’s an unusual time for Yoongi to be ringing.

“Hey, Yoons,” Jimin answers, the questioning tone already apparent.

“Jiminie I don’t want you to panic,” Yoongi starts, his words having the exact opposite effect on Jimin, “everything is ok, right?”

“But…?” Jimin asked.

“Dad’s in hospital, I’m here, he’s ok, but yeah,” Yoongi tells him.

“Fuck, shit, what happened?” Jimin rushed out.

“No one is sure yet, he kind of keeled over in the garden apparently, a neighbour saw and called an ambulance, and then me, so I’m here too and he’s having some tests.”

“Shit,” Jimin moaned out, obviously distressed.

“Hey, calm down,” Yoongi told him gently, “I’ve been chatting to him, he’s not out of it or anything, they just want to rule stuff out and check he’s ok before they let him go.”

“I’m coming,” Jimin told him decisively, his tone firmer now.

“Yeah, I figured,” Yoongi told him, “but calm down first ok? Don’t drive stressed, we don't need to be worrying about you too.”

Jimin huffed out in exasperation, but actually, he was touched, “yeah, I promise,” he told Yoongi.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi told him, “I’m being honest with you, dad’s really ok, he’s more worried about inconveniencing everyone, you know?”

Jimin did relax a bit at that because that sounded so like his dad, “yeah, ok,” he told Yoongi softly, “thank you, tell him I’m coming, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“fuck, I’m not telling him you’re coming,” Yoongi spluttered, “he’ll spend the next few hours telling me off for worrying you.”

Jimin giggled, “yeah, true, I’m still telling him that you rang me when I get there though.”

Yoongi groaned out, “no, please, you’ll get me in trouble,” he joked.

Jimin just giggled again, saying goodbye to Yoongi before quickly going to get himself sorted out.

He fired off a quick text to Jungkook before he left, letting him know what was going on, letting him know that he’d be in Busan later. Even though Jungkook is at work too he still replies quickly.

 

From: Kook

“Oh shit Min, ok, let me know how he is when you see him huh? And if you want any company tonight?”

 

From: Me

“I will, thanks, be good to see you later but I’ll let you know.”

 

He drove back carefully, probably more carefully than he did usually, aware that his mind is racing. His dad isn’t really that old but age creeps up on everyone, and although Yoongi has reassured him that his dad is ok, it’s still a scary prospect that the hospital might find something wrong, some sinister reason for his collapse.  
He drives straight to the hospital, texting Yoongi once he’s parked so he knows where to head in this sprawling building. They’re still in A&E, waiting on test results but when he sees his dad sat in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and drips but looking remarkably perky and chatting to Yoongi he breathes a little sigh of relief. It’s more than Yoongi does when Jimin’s dad sees him entering, looking first pleased to see him, and then very crossly at Yoongi who shrinks away.

“Min Yoongi,” his dad starts, tone stern, “did I or did I not tell you not to contact Jimin?”

Yoongi nodded, just a little flicker of fear crossing his face, freezing in place.

It’s not a look Jimin has seen before, but he can well imagine where it’s come from, before his dad can continue Jimin interjects.

“I’m glad he rang,” he says, “now be nice, you’re scaring Yoongi,” he keeps his tone light but he looks at his dad meaningfully, eyes flicking to the rigid Yoongi and back.

His dad takes in Yoongi’s stance and is instantly contrite, reaching for Yoongi’s hand, bringing it up to his face and kissing the back of it gently.

“No, Yoongi,” he says softly.

Yoongi shakes himself out of whatever flashback he was having, pushing a smile back on his face, “I’m ok,” he chokes out.

His dad smiles oh so sadly, “I forgot, I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“Good,” Yoongi tells him, “they deserve to be forgotten, but I had to tell Jimin.”

This time his dad just nods, accepting the situation, “I know, I didn’t want to worry him, but I’m glad both of my boys are here.”

 

Jimin sits as Yoongi updates him, of the tests that have been done, the results that they know and the ones they are still waiting for. They have ruled out a host of serious conditions, which is a massive relief, and the doctors seem pretty convinced that they will be able to take him home either later on today or tomorrow.

“Have you got your nice car?” his dad check with Jimin, a little glean in his eye.

Jimin giggles, “of course,” he tells him, knowing how much his dad loves the car.

“Good, I deserve to be taken home in style,” his dad says, smiling despite his obvious tiredness.

He drifts off for a nap not long afterwards, leaving Jimin and Yoongi to chat softly by his bedside.

They get kicked out at 8 pm, visiting hours are over and there are still a few test results outstanding that won’t be back until the morning. They reluctantly leave their dad behind, promising to be back for him in the morning, Jimin promising to drive with a wry smile on his face. He drops Yoongi home first before driving himself to his dad's place, letting himself in, somewhat at a loss to what to do in the empty house.

He messages Jungkook to update him, sort of hoping that he’ll offer to come over but not wanting to ask. Jungkook knows him too well, and within half an hour is knocking on the door and hugging Jimin. Out of nowhere, once they’re in bed, Jimin cries, the fears bubbling back up to the surface, the phone call from Yoongi, seeing his dad so vulnerable in the hospital bed. He’s too far away, too removed from everything, if something really serious had happened to his dad today he may have been too late. In the dark, in Jungkook’s arms, he confides what’s been going around in his head all day,

“I want to move home.”

Jungkook doesn’t quite get it to start with, replying with just a little, “huh?”

“I’m done with Seoul, I’m too far from you, from dad, from Yoongi, from the others, and I want to move back to Busan.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have two more Jimin POV chapters left to go and then it'll finally be Jungkook's time to shine. There is so much I have already either written or have in mind to write for him but I am still open to any suggestions or questions from his POV.  
> Is there anything you want to know?Or before I end Jimin's story, is there something that you think they should so?
> 
> Thank you once again for sticking with me, I love you all.


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